


Its a Tricky Thing, Justice

by pineapple_split



Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Gen, Hate, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Struggle, cycle of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 04:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineapple_split/pseuds/pineapple_split
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She could pull the trigger, easily. Her father was slipping away with each second and she wanted payback. What was a prison sentence, really? An avenue for this guy to switch from arms dealing to drug dealing? Wouldn't it be better to nip the problem in the bud now? Wasn't she justified?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Its a Tricky Thing, Justice

"This is pointless," Nancy reasoned. "Even if you do hurt us and escape, the police _will_ find you, they _will_ bring you in, and you will be worse off because of it." Her voice was steady, angry, but she clipped her words short when the barrel of the gun swung to point at her face instead.

"You have no right to speak to me," Alexander Gonzalez snarled. _His_ voice was far from steady, as was the hand holding the pistol. That fact made Nancy more than a little nervous, although she tried her best not to show it. She checked again that her posture was as confident as possible while resting a hand on Andrea's shoulder. The woman in question was making a concerted effort to breathe through her nose without hyperventilating and making the ropes holding her chafe even more. Nancy's hand was a slightly calming presence on her shoulder.

"You have no idea, do you," Gonzalez continued, "how much damage you cause to innocent people. My brother was _innocent_. And you just couldn't leave well enough alone."

Nancy sighed, feeling regret and something like helplessness bubble up inside her. How a simple case of forgery had led to circumstances like this was beyond her. It had only been a matter of digging deeply enough to stumble upon an inconsistency‒and if that isn't how it always worked then Nancy was a fish ̶ leading to much more damning evidence of a large weapons smuggling racket directed southward toward Mexico. The emergence of the twins Alexander and Joseph Gonzalez had been a twist, yes, but ultimately a manageable one. There had been nothing to implicate Joseph himself in any smuggling dealings in the past five years. In fact, there had been no evidence of the brothers even being in contact during that time. Nancy had not planned on Joseph emerging out of the woodwork.  Undoubtedly realizing what she was looking for and what she'd fine, he had seemingly raced against time in order to tailor the evidence to incriminate himself instead of his brother. Knowing someone was on the trail, he had led her in the complete opposite direction of where she needed to go without bothering to destroy anything she would inevitably uncover. Even she had to grudgingly admit his plan has almost worked. Until Joseph had been found dead two nights ago in his car, most likely at the hands of the smugglers who thought he was operating as a double agent.

"I'm so‒" Nancy didn't even get a chance to finish her sentence before a wildly misaimed shot was fired and a new bullet hole decorated the wall behind her. Andrea didn't make a sound, merely ducked down toward the ground as best she could. Nancy's mind went blank as adrenaline raced through her. She unsuccessfully tried to drown out Alexander's shouting about how Nancy was directly responsible for Joseph's death and Andrea's betrayal of the smuggler organization had led to a police raid on their warehouse storage facility which had escalated violently. Alexander himself was obviously bandaged at the shoulder and favored his left leg. Police brutality, he yelled, only served to fuel the cause.

Breathing deeply, Nancy slowly put her hands in the air and tried to reason with the smuggler once more.

"I'm sorry about your brother and about the lives lost in the police raid. But we were not responsible for those incidents." Alexander was already shaking his head.

"Oh, you were. Or do you want me to believe that Carson Drew currently occupying the ICU unit of the hospital hasn't been influencing your decisions?" White hot anger shot through Nancy as she visibly bristled. Yes, she would be lying if she denied that something in her had snapped after she had seen her father on the ground by his car, unresponsive and entirely too bloody.

"That doesn't mean I wanted Joseph to die," she continued. Her voice was much more affected now, but she pushed that consideration aside. "Alexander, please. Shooting us won't solve anything. You'll be racking up two counts of first-degree murder in addition to those of smuggling illegal contraband and forgery which will undoubtedly be raised against you."

"Not to mention the shitstorm you're walking into by kidnapping me," Andrea growled, choosing her moment and leaping on it. "I have people looking for me. People who won't like the state they find me in. People who will gladly dispose of you in the most efficient manner possible."

Nancy winced. The last thing she wanted was to scare Alexander into shooting them anyway. She desperately tried to think of more ways to stall, all the while silently praying _George **please** be close._ No point calling local law enforcement, Border Patrol, and the FBI in if the hostages wouldn't even be alive when they arrived. No, she needed a concrete plan.

"Don't make threats when you have two small children waiting for you at home," Alexander icily replied. The argument soon devolved into the two smugglers threatening the other with a greater amount of bloodshed. With the gun still trained on her, Nancy could do little else but survey the small room for anything that might be useful. The abandoned office building they were in had obviously been in a state of disrepair for years. Nancy's heart sank as she registered a few lone, empty file cabinets in the far corner. Too far away for her to run to and use as a blunt weapon. She forced back tears of frustration. She refused to believe she was going to die tonight in this empty room in this small southern Texas town, especially not when her father lay in critical condition in a hospital bed almost 30 miles away.

"Enough!" she bit out. "No one is dying tonight. No one else will be injured. We're not answering violence with violence. The authorities are on their way, Alexander _,_ with all the evidence they need to lock you away for the rest of your life. You have lost, so _let us go!"_ She shouted that last part, imbuing it with every ounce of anger, disdain, and righteousness she possessed. This man had kidnapped, stolen, very probably ordered a hit on her father and threatened a woman's children; she _refused_ to play cowering victim to him any longer.

There was strategy at work as well. She gambled that if she could shake him enough, the gun would finally point somewhere other than a human being and real negotiation could begin. Or Nancy could tackle him to the ground. Whichever made most sense in her increasingly agitated state.

By a stroke of pure luck (and really, she'd have to concretely address that recurring phenomenon someday), she was saved from making a decision as familiar flashing lights illuminated the room through the windows. Nancy took advantage of Alexander's momentary distraction to begin untying the knots around Andrea's wrists. She tuned out the commands being projected via loudspeaker as she finished. She had precious seconds before Alexander turned his gaze from the windows back to them. She stood in a rush and quickly kicked the gun out of the man's unsuspecting hand. It was lousy execution, but it served the purpose of disarming him long enough for Nancy to make a beeline for the empty file cabinets.

She felt hands grasping at her from behind. A particularly sharp twist on her wrist made her hiss in pain. A hard blow landed on the small of her back, sending her straight to the floor. Almost immediately, however, Alexander's hands and general presence disappeared. Nancy risked a glance over her shoulder to see that Andrea had approached him from behind and encircled his neck with one of her arms while twisting her captive's left arm behind his back. She was _squeezing_ and there was nothing accidental about the action or the glint in her eye. Foregoing the file cabinets, Nancy grabbed the gun and leveled it at Alexander.

She could pull the trigger, easily. Her father was slipping away by the second and she wanted _payback_. What was a prison sentence, really? An avenue for this guy to switch from arms dealing to drug dealing? Would it be better to nip the problem in the bud now? Wasn't she _justified_?

Even as these traitorous thoughts raced through her head, her hands were already shakily lowering the weapon. There was a defeated slump to the young detective's shoulders. She wished desperately to be home, waking up to the smell of Hannah's muffins and giving her father a kiss before he headed to the office. This mystery had overextended its welcome.

"Outside, Andrea." Her voice was tired and laden with pain from her throbbing wrist. "We'll let the police take him." Andrea made no move to release the pressure on Alexander's neck. His choking was starting to cut out, his struggles completely ineffectual at hauling the enraged woman off him.

"I want to go home, hopefully with my father in one piece," Nancy said tiredly. All the fight had left her vocal cords. She nevertheless continued, even amid the sound of a SWAT team breaking down the door to the building. "I want to not watch another man die, and I want to not be targeted by any of his allies who may seek revenge if he's killed. Andrea, _please_."

Andrea made a sound halfway between disgusted and disbelieving, but loosened her grip just as SWAT burst into the room.

*                  *                  *

Later, Nancy would fall asleep in the chair next to a stabilized Carson Drew. George Fayne would bundle up her sweater and ease it under Nancy's head, glaring at the cast encasing her friend's broken wrist and the various bruises on her face.

Later, news outlets would report the knowledge of specific members of a complex smuggling chain which had very recently experienced an internal split. It would be learned that a good third of the original members had broken off from the main ring, to pursue much the same practices under different leadership. It would be regretfully reported that nearly all of the dissenters had disappeared, including one Andrea Lopez, mother of two.

By the time news of Alexander Gonzalez's  untimely death weeks afterward received media coverage, the Drews and Miss George Fayne would have already returned to River Heights. 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kokokringlesandsonnyjoon's ND Fan Fiction Month prompt on Tumblr. I couldn't decide whether this work fit the themes of "Hate" or "Struggle" better so just tagged both of them. This will probably remain a standalone piece. I was caught up by a mood and I wrote and then I stopped.


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